


It Takes A Varia

by Anonymous



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, be warned: author likes angst and hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It takes an entire village to raise a child. Or in this case... an entire team of elite assassins. A series of oneshots featuring Bel and the Varia.





	It Takes A Varia

**Chapter 01: Sick**

**Words: 2,507**

**Characters: Bel (8), Squalo (14)**

* * *

Two small hands were on his shoulders, shaking him awake.

"Squalo… Squalo, _wake up_."

Sleepily, Squalo forced his eyes open. The room was dark with only a slither of pale moonlight seeping in through the cracks between the curtains; it was probably too early to be awake yet. And sure enough, when he gathered the willpower to lift his head a little and check the hotel room's blocky, old alarm clock, it read 1:47 AM. _Fuck_ his life. Squalo groaned.

"Squalo…"

There was another shake at his shoulder and Squalo turned around. His almost-nine-year-old roommate was sitting on the edge of his bed, his usual grin absent and replaced by a deep frown.

“What?” Squalo grumbled, "It’s the middle of the night.”

“The Prince doesn't feel well.”

 _Not well_? Squalo made a face...

“What, like _sick_?” That was the _last_ thing he needed right now! But come to think of Bel had been suspiciously subdued today… hadn't eaten much either. Using his arm, Squalo pushed himself up and settled into a sitting position. He touched the back of his good hand against Bel’s forehead, testing for a fever. He was a _little_ warm, but it didn't feel _too_ bad - maybe Bel could sleep it off? Before Squalo could voice his thoughts, he prince slapped his hand away.

“This is your fault, peasant.”

“Voi, what?! How is it _my_ fault?!”

Bel shrugged, “It just is… You should scoot over and let the Prince sleep in your bed tonight. It's only fair."

Squalo raised an eyebrow. Bel wanted… what, _comfort_? And he thought Squalo should be the one to provide it? It wasn't like there was anyone else around right now, but still… the kid was a mystery. A living, breathing dichotomy most of the time; Squalo just couldn't make heads or tails of him.

When a few moments passed and Squalo still hadn't said a thing, the scrutiny clearly started to make Bel feel uncomfortable. He looked away and Squalo watched his shoulders tense, then drop.

"Shishi, did you believe that? It was just a joke, silly peasant!" He said, then quickly turned his back to Squalo. Squalo couldn't help but think it sounded just the tiniest bit disappointed.

Sure… Bel was a violent little monster who had taken to the Varia like a duck to water, but right now, in the dim lighting provided by the streetlight outside their hotel room at nearly two in the morning, Squalo found it easy to recognise this very human side of him as well.

He was a kid who didn't want to sleep alone because he was feeling unwell. Thinking back, Squalo admitted that he had probably done the same when _he_ 'd been a snot-nosed brat.

Oh, hell.

It was too late for this.

“I don’t want to wake up and find any of your knives in my bed, you hear me?” He grumbled, moving a little so as to make space for Bel under the covers, “Put them away first.”

A few moments later he was pulling the blankets over the two of them, Bel pressed against his side so that they could both fit without risking one of them falling off. No matter how small Bel was, Squalo's bed was still just a twin.

"I better not catch whatever you've got." He warned, but only silence answered him: Bel was out as a light. Must have been tired.

Squalo rolled his eyes, tried to settle into a more comfortable position, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Squalo woke up the next morning, it took him a moment to actually remember why the Varia’s eight-year-old Storm Officer was sleeping in his bed, clinging to Squalo like a particularly territorial baby koala…

Oh. _right_.

Bel had woken him up last night… something about feeling unwell and it being Squalo's fault. Whatever. That wasn’t as important as it might have been – what _was_ important was freeing himself from Bel’s iron grip without compromising a finger or two in the process: Bel did _not_ respond well to being startled in his sleep. There were assassins who bore the scars to prove it, but Squalo thought any idiot who snuck up on a sleeping assassin _deserved_ to get cut to pieces anyway.

Finally managing to free himself, Squalo got out of bed. He went to the bathroom, washed his face with soap and water, and after a moment of consideration, decided to go out and buy Bel and himself some breakfast. By the time he got back Bel was already awake and sitting up in his bed.

"Good morning," Squalo said. Putting the paper bag down on the coffee table, he wandered closer to Bel. "How are you feeling?"

Bel shrugged, then winced.

"The Prince’s tummy hurts. And his head."

Another temperature check told him that Bel definitely had a fever now. Which - _great_ \- couldn't this have happened to Lussuria instead? _He_ might actually have known how to deal with this.

“Grab something to eat from the bag, drink some water, and get back into bed." Squalo decided, "Rest solves these kind of things." ...Hopefully.

He should probably still call Lussuria to get some proper advice though. The Sun Officer had been spending a lot of time in the infirmary lately, poring over medical journals and university textbooks, so he'd probably know better.

"What about the mission?" Bel whined. He grabbed the paper bag, peeled off the piece of tape keeping it shut, and took a moment to peek inside. He retrieved two chocolate croissants and then threw the bag back at Squalo. "The Prince _really_ wanted to kill some peasants today."

The Rain rolled his eyes.

"I'll take care of it. _You_ need to sleep this off - sick people who are dumb and don't stay in bed aren't Varia Quality, you hear me?"

"Ushishi~ The Prince is _always_ Varia quality." At least that's probably what Bel had _tried_ to say; it was hard to tell because his royal highness had just stuffed his mouth full of croissant and was trying to talk around it.

"Don't talk while you're eating." Squalo chided, then made a face. _He sounded like his mother_ \- what had the world come to? Bel responded with a crude hand gesture.

"VOOOI! WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT?!"

"You did."

 _Fuck_.

Squalo grumbled, opened the bag again, and had his own breakfast.

* * *

When Squalo returned from the mission, the hotel room was dark. From the doorway he could make out a lump on his bed and the TV was on, but muted. Switching the light on, Belphegor only curled in on himself and mumbled something, burying his face deeper into the covers.

Squalo closed the door behind him.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty, I bought you medicine."

Since Bel didn't respond, Squalo wandered over. He put the plastic bag down on the bedside table - careful to avoid Bel's knives - and sighed. Reaching out with his good hand, he shook Bel's shoulder.

"Come on, brat. I know you heard me come in."

Bel blinked blearily, raising his head a little.

“Squalo...?”

“Yeah, who the fuck else would it be?”

Bel didn’t respond. He looked like he was still half asleep or something. The lack of reply worried him a little and Squalo sat down on Bel's bedside.

"Did you get out of bed at all?" He asked, "How's the fever?"

"I'm cold…"

He sounded miserable and it made Squalo feel a little bit guilty about leaving him alone all day. Another fever check revealed that Bel was _really_ burning up now. The swordsman worried his lip.

"Looks like your fever's gone up since this morning…" He sighed, thoughtfully tapping his fingers against his knee, "You need to take a shower, I'll figure out dinner while you do that."

Bel burrowed deeper under the covers and shook his head.

"The Prince is cold," He complained, "He doesn't want to get out of bed."

"Voi, I _know_ you're cold but we have to get that fever down. I've got some aspirin you can take after and then you can sleep as much as you want."

"The Prince wants pizza."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Bel was still reluctant but eventually Squalo got him to sit up and untangle himself from his blankets. The prince made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Squalo's phone was in his hand as soon as he heard the water running. He called Lussuria. It rang twice before his teammate picked up.

 _His_ counsel was liquids, lots of rest, and chicken soup. They’d have to make do without the chicken soup. Remembering his intention to sort out dinner, Squalo also called the reception and ordered a pizza. Bel came out just as Squalo got up to answer the door and when he turned around the swordsman found the prince sitting down on the bed, already wrapped up in a pile of blankets.

Bel leaned into his shoulder as soon as Squalo was sitting down. _Weird…_ but okay. Come to think of it, Bel had been displaying a lot of unusual behaviour these last 24 hours or so. Maybe he just got clingy when he got sick?

Squalo didn't mention it and just nudged him affectionately instead; he knew Bel wouldn't be asking for attention if he didn't feel like he really needed it. Talking about this would only result in Bel getting defensive and isolating himself though, so Squalo and Bel ate their food in silence.

Whoever Bel's real family were or had been, it was obvious that they hadn't spent much time with their son, let alone been affectionate towards him. Lussuria had said that children needed affection to grow up healthy, but considering Bel had admitted to killing his family well before joining the Varia, that ship had obviously long since sailed.

Squalo didn’t like to pry. They all had their own stories to tell and trust issues were something of a Varia-wide affliction anyway. Well-adjusted people with normal childhoods didn’t end up killing for a living; they got an office job, or something.

After dinner, and after Bel had taken an aspirin, Squalo let the child curl up next to him. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and watched some TV – he decided that maybe he’d read a little bit as well, later.

* * *

Bel was cold. He was cold and in pain and also sweaty and he _really_ didn't like how the sweat made his pyjamas stick to his skin. It felt icky.

When he cracked his eyes open - he felt _exhausted_ , like he hadn't slept at all - he found himself in a darkened room. The darkness was only broken by the dim light of a lamp somewhere to the left, and the only sounds audible to his ears were those of someone's calm breathing and the occasional turning of a book's page.

Craning his neck a little, Bel blinked. There was someone sitting with him, a light-haired teenager reading a book. He only now realised that he was using this boy's stomach as a pillow. It felt too comfortable to pull away, and Bel wasn't sure he had the strength to attempt it anyway.

He felt so _weak_.

He hated being weak. He had to be strong because-

Because…

He faltered. Thinking was too much work right now. The boy felt familiar and safe, Bel could ask him what he was doing in the Prince's rooms later.

As he closed his eyes and drifted off again, he settled into a restless sleep. Rasiel haunted his dreams, his image nebulous and unclear in the surrounding darkness. He was in front of him, then behind him, then gone again but Bel could still hear the words dripping from his grinning lips like poison.

He woke up again shivering uncontrollably, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the dream or because he was cold. Maybe both. The boy - he was still there - shifted.

"Bel?"

Oh, it was Squalo. Why was Squalo here...?

His mind was foggy.

“Go back to sleep, kid.”

There was a hand on his head as Squalo stroked his hair a few times and the suggestion felt so tempting. Sleep tugged at his eyelids. But Bel shook his head.

“No…” He managed, "Where's Rasiel? Have you seen him?"

"Who the fuck's Rasiel?"

“My brother, stupid. Last time I was sick he force-fed me mud."

The mud had been filled with gross, wiggling worms and Rasiel hadn't let go until he'd swallowed - it had been _disgusting_ and Bel had thrown up so violently after that some maids had come looking. Of course _Rasiel_ had thought it was all real funny. The joke was on him though because being basically bedridden for the better part of the week had given Bel ample time to plot.

It was like that, an endless contest of one-upmanship that ensured neither of them could ever rest easy _._ Day after day after day battles were won and lost, but they never got any closer to winning the war.

An opportunity where one of them was weak? Neither twin could just ignore that.

Squalo eyed him for a long moment.

“Rasiel isn’t here now, brat.”

"Doesn't matter, he'll try something… the Prince has to..."

His words trailed off and for a moment Belphegor almost forgot why he couldn't sleep. Heavy exhaustion washed over him… He snapped awake once more and his eyes darted about the room urgently, almost expecting to find Rasiel's figure lurking in the shadows.

Squalo's hand was back on his head again, comforting him.

"Tell you what… I'll stay here and keep your brother out. Will that do?"

Then something distant clicked; Rasiel was dead, wasn't he? Bel had killed him together with their parents - it had been months since then. He was in Italy now, in a hotel room in Messina with Squalo, where they'd come for a mission.

And Squalo was… trying to placate him? The thought was as confusing as it was infuriating - Bel wasn't a baby, he didn't need or _want_ anyone babying him! - but then again he didn't want the moment to end either. Would Squalo make him sleep alone if he spoke up? No one had ever sat by his side while he was sick before and it was actually sort of nice.

So instead of pushing him away Bel huddled closer to Squalo and greedily let himself be soothed. Being babied wasn't _that_ bad, and he was sick.

He would allow it. Just for tonight.

“Alright. But you've got to stay close to the Prince or you can't keep watch otherwise.”

“Sure, whatever." Squalo sounded like he was rolling his eyes, his tone of voice begrudgingly fond, "Now go the fuck to sleep, you need it.”

Bel pouted and mumbled something about how peasants shouldn’t tell princes what to do, but it was weak and mostly just for show; he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


End file.
